The Last Sage
by Bardothren
Summary: Possessed by a Haunter, wanted for assaulting police officers, and ignorant of the world outside the ransacked tower he had called home, Ash must find friends in a society that sees ghosts as monsters, get answers about his changing body that only the dead know, and uncover the truth about the Sages that had raised him.


**Hello everyone, Bard here. This is an entirely new work of fiction, not related to any of my pervious work. I'm really excited for the premise of this story, and I hope you will enjoy it as well.**

**If you had followed me over to the RWBY fandom for Cardinal Sins, then you may have heard that I was planning to start another story and run it concurrently with this one.**

**This is not that story.**

**The story that I had been planning, well, didn't really take off during the outline. It's an idea that has been rolling around in my head for about a year now, and it's gone through multiple renditions. Yet, I was left with a cliché gather-all-the-gym-badges storyline, albeit with a strong emphasis on the internal conflict of its characters. I think it needs some more revision before I would want to work on it. Maybe one day, but that is not this day.**

**This story started as a concept, an idea that I was trying to fit into that first story. It never did fit anywhere, but at least it sprouted into its own story. I won't spoil what the concept is, but rest assured, you won't have long to wait until you see it in action. It hadn't really had any form until a moment of inspiration made the setting, plot, and characters coalesce all at once. The outline's still a work in progress, but let's face it, none of those survive the first ten chapters anyways.**

**Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some Game of Thrones to watch. Enjoy, let me know what you think and all that fun stuff. **

**EDIT: first off, it may be a few weeks before the next update. Easter will be a bit crazy for me.**

**Second, I fixed a minor continuity error. More details in the changelog at the end.**

**DOUBLE EDIT: you may be wondering why I suddenly chose to throw Ash in here. It may seem like a random decision, or a change designed to get more attention.**

**It's definitely one of those.**

**I've been wondering for a while now what it would take to get more views and comments, and perhaps I'm missing something, but the common denominator I've noticed among the stories I've seen is Ash in story = more reviews and follows.**

**However, were this my only motivation, I would not change the story. Adding Ash into a story wouldn't automatically make it any better, and quality is what I am aiming for.**

**Using Ash instead of an undefined OC whose personality I haven't been able to get a good handle on, however, makes for a more compelling reason.**

**Now, I know the premise is quite a stretch, that it raises a billion and one questions about continuity and all that fun stuff. I have answers. This is nowhere near canon material, but I feel fairly confident I can explain what series of events would lead Ash into the situation he is currently in. **

**So, this will be a fun little experiment for me. Let's see how much of a difference Ash's name would make. If it works, I'll use canon characters from now on. If it so happens it doesn't do anything, at least I know to go back to the drawing board for next time.**

**So, thanks for your patience with your edits, here's your newly Ash-ified fanfic.**

Chapter One

Today, Ash becomes a Sage.

The apprentices of Sprout Tower rise before the sun for their martial arts lessons, held in a square, windowless room of bright wood floors and walls. They arm themselves from the racks of padded vests, quarterstaffs, tonfa, and nunchaku that line the walls. Sage Earl drills them on parries and thrusts with their quarterstaffs as the apprentices pair off against each other. Ash practices with a tonfa-wielding girl his age and the Duskull floating by her shoulder. His own Haunter sits behind him, miming the moves of his quarterstaff with its hands.

When the training turns to sparring, the tonfa spins in his opponent's hand, darting past his guard and striking him on the chest. He brings his quarterstaff back to parry, but step by step, he backpedals as the relentless assault chips away at his defense. A few of his counter-attacks strike her shoulders, but she shrugs off the blows and forces him back another pace. With a shout, she pries the quarterstaff out of Ash's hands with a flick of her tonfa and presses the weapon against his neck. The wood feels warm and smooth on his neck, and he can feel the dents in its surface from where it had struck his quarterstaff. He raises his hands to yield and bows to his opponent.

His Haunter holds out a hand, and the quarterstaff leaps to the spirit. It twirls the staff and bumps Ash on the head. Though the spirit put no force behind the blow, it still stings, since he has no hair to cushion the blow. Laughing with his spirit, Ash takes the staff and faces his opponent. The match begins anew, and again Ash is disarmed.

Ash's stomach rumbles by the time they're dismissed to breakfast. The air of the dining hall thrums with a nervous charge as eight dozen apprentices huddle together at the wooden benches. The ones around him are his age. Some scarf down bowls of porridge as if it were their last meal. Others spin the spoons around, digging up blueberries and rolling them on the uneven mush. The younger apprentices sit at other benches, glancing at the future Sages and muttering to themselves between bites.

Their spirits hang in the air around them, Gastly and Litwick, Shuppet and Drifloon, all wandering phantoms that have gravitated to the Sprout Tower and its congregation of Sages. Ash's Haunter looms over his shoulders, watching with pale, unblinking eyes as he scooped porridge out of his wooden bowl with a wooden spoon. An unearthly chill clings to the spirit, which he feels on the back of his neck. With the dining room hot and stifling from the kitchens and the close-packed apprentices, the phantom frigidity is a welcome relief.

When Ash sets the bowl aside with a few lumps of porridge clinging to it, his Haunter picks up the spoon and sticks some porridge into its mouth. The lump falls through it and lands on the floor, but it chuckles and keeps eating anyways.

The Sages eat at another table, if they eat at all, and watch the apprentices. Their spirits are draped around them like cloaks, half-buried in their flesh. Both men and women have bald heads, frail statures, and wrinkled, jaundiced skin, like green apples left in the sun for too long. They move with grace that belies their elderly appearance, holding spoons with firm hands and leafing through newspapers with dexterous fingers. They wear thick, black robes, but not a bead of sweat dots their foreheads. They smell of lavender, frankincense and myrrh, powerful enough even from their table to mask the smells of cooked oats and sweat around him.

After breakfast, they attend the morning congregation. As the bell tolls overhead, the apprentices rise in unison and walk single-file to the chapel. The long pews look as though they had grown out of the floor, with vines and leaves carved into their edges. A block of white marble stands at the far end of the room, with red cloth draped over the top. The pulpit stands behind it, carved in the shape of an oak stump, that comes up to a Sage's chest.

Sage Troy guides them through prayers for the departed souls of this world and asks the lingering spirits to watch over them. A Dusknoir looms above him, watching the apprentices with its glowing red eye. Troy speaks of their role in maintaining harmony between life and death, and that they must work with the spirits to protect this delicate balance from the devourer sealed beneath the tower. He closes his speech out by wishing the older apprentices luck on their initiation and calls upon the others to pray for them.

When Troy finishes speaking, the Dusknoir claps its hands together. The air ripples, and a shrill, disembodied whine fills the chapel. Out of thin air, spirits drift into the chapel and stop before the marble altar. They heap gems, nuggets of gold, bunches of herbs, and bundles of fresh fish and wild vegetables in a giant pile before the Sage.

Ash sorts the gifts into piles with the other apprentices. He takes the rubies, examines the uncut gems, and sorts them by the number of flaws. The lesser gems get sent to the crush pile with sapphires and emeralds of similar quality, while the larger gems are taken by a Golett to the Tower's reliquary.

After a light lunch of baked fish and wild parsnips, Ash cleans the Tower with the other apprentices. The younger ones have the upper floors, while Ash and the other older apprentices work the lower floors. His Haunter hides in his shadow, but he can feel its chill in his feet and knees as he polishes the floor with an old rag.

A few tourists walk through the halls, taking pictures of the swaying pillar and admiring the sinuous carvings in the wooden walls. He pays them no mind except to scrub away their dirty footprints until the floor shines.

Sage Neal gives a small group a tour. He has the hood of his robe drawn up, hiding the yellow of his skin in darkness, and he has his hands tucked together inside his sleeves. He asks them not to use flash photography as the flickering lights of their cellphones scour the shadows from the carvings. He doesn't bother to ask again.

The stairs to the upper levels are roped off, and Sage Edmond stands sentinel in front of them, watching the interlopers out of the corners of his eyes. Any tourist that strays too close is asked to step away.

After the Tower closes its doors for the evening at five, the apprentices gather for the final meal of the day, more fish, more parsnips, and a cup of chocolate pudding, brightly packaged with a brand name stamped on top. The plastic top stubbornly refuses to peel away, coming off in tiny strips, but once he jams the wooden spoon inside, the sticky treat that comes out with it proves well worth the effort.

At six o clock, marked by the tolling of the evening bell, Sages and apprentices gather in a large auditorium. Fold-up chairs sit in an awkward clutter in front of a projector screen. Sage Nico, with the assistance of his spirit, waves the remote at the projector and presses buttons until the device hums to life.

The six-o-clock news of JNN fades into view. It's all the same news, former Rockets breaking into stores, politicians facing charges, car accidents, natural disasters, and rare Pokémon sightings. The Sages insist that the congregation watches, that they must maintain awareness of the world around them. Ash watches patiently, noting locations he will never see, people he will never meet, and events he will never be a part of.

His Haunter watches too, along with the other spirits. Some play games with each other in the rafters, making faces and chasing each other in circles, other sit in circles and commune in an unspoken language. His Haunter sits at his shoulders, watching with him. Goosebumps cover his head and shoulders, but the icy sensation feels as distant and vague to him as the Ampharos in Olivine City that had just succumbed to illness. He offers a small prayer for its spirit, but the news moves on to coverage of the Pokémon League.

The room plunges into sudden darkness when Nico hits the power button. His Haunter leads him through the labyrinth of abandoned chairs and shuffling bodies. They go back into the chapel for evening prayers, given over to reflection on their day and more supplications to their guardian spirits. A cloud of phantoms looms overhead, silently watching the ceremony and filling the room with a deathly chill, yet Ash feels no urge to shiver.

The younger apprentices go to their living quarters to wash up, read, and prepare for bed. Ash and a dozen others his age follow Sage Neal to the top floor of the tower.

"This room must remain a secret," the Sage tells them as he presses a hand against the pillar. The wood moves inward with a soft scrape and slides aside when he hooks his fingers behind it. Purple flames dance along the hollow pillar's interior, and a steep, winding staircase, flanked by thin wooden rails, descends it.

The pillar sways as they walk down the stairs. The steps are worn smooth from countless feet, but the thin boards don't make a sound as Nico and the apprentices head downstairs.

"Do the Sages come through this stair every day?" an apprentice in front of Ash asks.

"We have other means of reaching this place," Nico answers. His voice resonates in the pillar, and the fire flickers as though he were blowing on them. "This is the passage you must take until you become proper Sages."

The rest of the descent is made in silence. At the bottom, Nico slides aside another panel. Ash blinks as he walks out into darkness with an apprentice pushing him from behind.

"Let your spirits guide you," Nico said. "They know the way."

Ash feels his Haunter tugging on his robe. He follows the pull through winding halls until he reaches a spacious, stony room. Purple flames in golden sconces illuminate a cave with rugged gray stone. Shadows dance on the walls and ceiling, some tricks of the light, others spirits gathered for the initiation. Golurk flank the walls, their golden eyes scanning the crowd of apprentices.

Six stone benches, each long enough to seat all of them, face a clearing at the far end of the cave. Two smooth pillars stand at shoulder height, about as far apart as outstretched hands.

Eleven Sages watch them enter. Though their voice was scarcely a whisper, Ash heard one Sage say, "A poor crop this year. We may have to go abroad for more."

"We're already taking apprentices from Kanto," another whispers back. "Going anywhere else would draw attention."

Ash's hands shake as he sits on the stone benches. Generations of Sages before him sat here, in this spot, as they waited to go through their rite of initiation with their spirits. His Haunter drifts down to him and settles over his shoulders. The shaking stops.

A twelfth Sage walks through the stone wall at the back and stands in between the pillars. Where the other ages look old, he looks mummified, with skin the color of rotten bananas sunken to his skull, fleshy yellow eyes, and skeletal limbs.

His voice is sonorous and strong as he addresses the apprentices.

"I am Elder Li," he said. "It is an honor to meet you all. Would that I have been able to meet you before this day, but my duties require me to remain here, watching over the evil that slumbers beneath our feet."

He sets his hands on the pillar, and out of the purple haze wreathing him, a Gengar drifts out. It stands in his shadow and grins at the apprentices.

"Today, you may attempt to bond with your spirit. Know that doing so comes with great risk and sacrifice. There is no reward or glory in this, only service to the spirits and mankind. It is a thankless and difficult task, but one crucial to the preservation of life."

Elder Li smiles warmly at the apprentices. Ash feels as though his eyes linger on him longer than the rest. "If you find that your resolve falters, you may leave this place. You will set out to become a Pokémon trainer, and afterwards, go where life takes you. Sage Chow will take memory of this place and the means of becoming a Sage from you, so you may not spread dangerous knowledge among those who would use it with ill intent."

The mentioned Sage inclined his head. "It is for the good of all."

"Once you leave this place, you may never return," Elder Li said. "Once you bond with your spirit, you will remain here for the rest of your days. Consider your decision carefully."

Silence fills the room. One apprentice rises to her feet.

"I am ready, Elder," she says.

"Very good. Come forward, child."

The girl stands before the elder. A Litwick sits on her shoulder, dripping phantom wax down her robes and onto the floor.

"Face your peers and place your hands on the pillars."

She spreads her arms. Her fingers curl around the edges of the pillar, into finger-shaped grooves. The spirits above them fall silent and float closer, watching intently as the initiation begins.

"Close your eyes," the Elder says. "Imagine yourself as a cup. Pour all your thoughts into it, fill it to the brim, put all your excitement and anxiety in there, all the emotions that tether you to the earthly plane. Take a deep breath. Hold it there. Yes, that's it. Now, tip the cup. Let it spill onto the floor, slowly now, like you're watering a plant. Empty the cup. Let all thought and all emotion spill out of you."

The Litwick wriggled its way towards the top of the girl's shaven head. She doesn't move a muscle. She hardly seems to breathe.

"This next part is important. As your spirit bonds with you, you will experience unimaginable agony. It is a trial of flesh and soul alike, one to ensure that you are a proper vessel for your spirit. To survive, you must keep your hands on the pillars. Failure will cost you your life. Are you resolved to continue?"

"I am ready." Her voice is monotone, spoken as if from a trance.

"Begin."

The Litwick vanishes into her body. Violet flames race along her skin. Her eyes snap open, and a shrill shriek bursts from her mouth. She writhes and flails, muscles bulge in her arms, and her legs kick against the floor, but her hands firmly grasp the pillars. Blood drips down as she breaks her fingernails on the stone.

A single flame sits above her head, but it floats an inch above her. Her skin has a waxy complexion. The Sage groaned and sagged to the floor. Two of her peers rush forward with bandages and wrap them around her fingers with practiced precision. They each lend her a shoulder and help her out of the room.

Elder Li and his spirit smile at the withdrawing figures. "We have been blessed with a new Sage." He turns towards the apprentices. "Having seen what must be endured, do you still wish to partake of the trial?"

The apprentices stand in unison. Ash swallows nervously as he looks at the blood-stained pillars, but he clenches his hands and stands with his back straight.

Elder Li studies each of them. With a gnarled hand, he points at the nearest apprentice. "You. Are you ready?"

"Yes Elder," the young man answered.

"Then you know what must be done."

The apprentice strides to the pillars. His Honedge floats behind him, with its tassels draped around the man's neck. His fingers slide into the bloodied ridges in the pillars, and he closes his eyes. The Elder begins the chant again. Like last time, the apprentice's spirit disappears into his body, as though sheathing the blade. Gray fire envelops him. Like the girl, he howls in agony, flailing in place as his arms are rooted to the stone.

A hand slips.

The arm twists backward with a deafening snap, and the man screams. The arm twists and turns in on itself, twisting until it twists into the ribcage. The other arm jerks and spasms, and it too falls free of the stone. The twisting reaches his hips, his knees, his feet, until every bone in his body twists into itself. Blood pours from his mouth as it's crushed out of his body, and when his jaw twists shut, the blood spurts from his eyes.

When it is over, nothing remains of the apprentice except two bloodshot eyes staring lifelessly out of a spherical mass swaddled in blood-stained robes, and the clotting pool it sat in. The Honedge drifts out and vanishes through the floor.

A Golett wraps the sphere in a sack and hefts it over his shoulder. A Sage, with the assistance of the Chandelure inside of him, scours the floor clean with purple fire that leaps from his hands.

"Now you know the price of failure," the Elder said. His smile is gone, replaced by a weary, haggard frown. "Many have sacrificed themselves in the attempt to become a Sage, and many more will for years to come. It is the way of things, to ensure that the Sage can properly contain and control the spirit's power." He gestures to the ash coating the floor. "Having seen this, do any of you wish to leave?"

Ash feels as though his Haunter had reached inside him and twisted his guts into frozen knots. Bile rises up in the back of his throat, and his arms shake. He hugs himself and hunches over, struggling to stay on his feet. He can't sit down. None of the others have given up, and he can't either. It is his duty. It is his purpose. He has spent his whole life studying, preparing for this moment, and he cannot turn back now.

His Haunter floats in front of him. Though its eyes hold no trace of emotion, Ash could swear that it is feeling concern for him. It reaches out and puts a hand on his shoulder, not quite touching his robe, but the chill of its touch does nothing to chase away the icy fear in his heart.

He isn't the only one wavering. Many other apprentices turn pale as they watched the apprentice die, and some have tears on their cheeks. The spirits observe in grave silence, and the Sages mutter among themselves.

Elder Li approaches another apprentice. He flinches when the Elder speaks.

"Are you still ready?"

The moment draws out to impossible length. Ash isn't the only one holding their breath as they wait for the apprentice to make his decision. A soft murmur echoes from the ceiling as the spirits grow impatient.

The apprentice's legs give out from under him. He sits on the pew with a shaking breath and buries his face in his hands.

The Elder moves on to the next apprentice. This one looks him in the eyes, nods to the Sableye on his shoulder, and walks up to the pillars. After a rush of black fire and more screaming, he falls to the floor, fingers bloody and eyes shining like rubies.

Six more fail the trial, and another sits, before the next new Sage merges with her Phantump. Thin branches sprout like hair from her arms and atop her head, and a thin coating of bark covers her chest. This one has strength enough to give a thumbs up to the apprentices and walk out on her own. Her legs sink into the stone as she leaves, and a Sage trails after her to make sure she doesn't vanish into the earth.

By the time Elder Li approaches Ash, two more Sages are made, and six are unmade. The Golett have nearly run out of sacks, and one went to get more.

"Are you still ready?" the Elder asks him.

Ash watches a Golett haul away another dead apprentice over its shoulder, glances at the two failures in their seats, shunned by the spirits and Sages, and turns back to the Elder. He can't bring himself to look into the man's dry, yellow eyes. He feels as though every muscle in his body is straining to keep him on his feet, that a mountain sits on his shoulders, crushing him towards a sitting position. The chill from his chest creeps up his neck, paralyzing his throat, and prickles his face. Each breath hisses through clenched teeth, and each beat of his heart booms in a rushing accelerando, drowning out all other noise.

His nose catches the faint whiff of blood and decay. The screams of dying apprentices and the crunch of bones echoes in his head. He can feel his own flesh twisting, clawing at itself, threatening to implode and crush him like a pudding cup. Lights flash before his eyes as his brain struggles for oxygen like a diver straining towards the surface, only to find there's nothing but ice at the top.

His legs fail him. Before he realizes what has happened, the Elder has moved on, and another apprentice took his place. She dies and takes the last burlap sack.

Ash turns towards his Haunter, but the spirit is gone. He is alone.

He and two others remain in the room once the initiation has ended. He expects disapproving frowns from the Sages, or scolding, or lectures, but they stare through him, as though he isn't there. One Sage approaches them and helps them out of their seats, but he doesn't say a word. He shows them to a set of guest bedrooms on the lower floors and closes the door behind them.

Ash and the two failures say nothing as they prepare for bed. Tears streak his cheeks, but he's too tired for crying now. He crawls into bed in his robes. The room feels empty without his Haunter drifting above him, watching him as he falls asleep.

His eyes burn, and yawns rack his body, but sleep eludes him. With a groan, he rolls out of bed, stumbles out the door, and gropes his way across the entry hall towards the stairs to the upper levels. As he slides aside the rope barrier, a Haunter, not his Haunter, the eyes are too far apart, gestures for him to stop. He tries to move past, but an invisible barrier blocks the way.

Sage Edmond drifts up from the floor and stands on the stairs. "I must ask you to step away. The upper levels are off limits to the general public."

Ash blinks in confusion, then realization sinks in him like a stone. He is the general public now, gawking at the Bellsprout carvings and dirtying the floors. Ash bows his head, apologizes, and returns to the guest room.

He spends much of the night on the guest room's computer, learning all he can about being a Pokémon Trainer – what to buy, what to wear, where to sleep, where the gyms are and what types they use and should be used against them, where to find wild Pokémon and how to train them, trade them, evolve them, befriend them. Information pours through him like sand through a sieve, gone the moment he tries to take hold of it. He doesn't even know where to buy anything, but when he looks up supply marts, he realizes he doesn't know where to get money. By the time he learns what jobs are and how he can apply for them, all thoughts of Pokémon supplies had fled his mind.

Ash stops and stares at the screen. Ads light up half the page for the latest camping gear and a new line of Pokémon food. He wonders what made him so weak, what made him sit when the Elder stood before him, whether he would have been better off crushed to death and hauled away. At least he could say to the spirits that he had the courage to try.

He considers running past the rope, running down the pillar, fumbling his way through the dark beneath the tower until he finds Elder Li, falls to his knees, and begs him for another chance, to stand between the pillars with his Haunter, to dig his fingers into the stone until his fingers split apart.

Ash doesn't rise from his chair.

Changelog

4/15/2019 – fixed a minor continuity error.

4/16/2019 – replaced generic OC with Ash Ketchum, added an extra scene of Haunter being Haunter, and fixed a few grammar mistakes that slipped under the radar the first two times.


End file.
